In my darkest hour, I turn to you
by Flynn0110
Summary: Katniss, Peeta, Cato, Finnick, Haymitch... They are all victors of previous games, but even though they've won, they are still slaves of the Capitol. Full summery inside. M for a reason!
1. Fountain

**Disclaimer: I don't own any rights; the hunger games and all its characters are property of Suzanne Collins.**

Summery: This story is about Cato, Katniss, Peeta, Finnick and Haymitch. They are all victors of previous games, but even though they've won, they are still slaves of the Capitol. After years of abuse, pain and despair, they decide to team up, escaping the capitol and its cruelness. But before they know it, they are caught up in the midst of a revolution. Who will survive? And will the new regime be better than the old one? **Warning: violence, sex, rape and lots and lost of drama. Also character death. M for a reason!**

* * *

**Fountain**

_Fountain, fountain, we are the same_

_Fountain, fountain, we are the same_

_You with the water, me with the pain_

_Turning it over, again and again._

-Sara Lov, fountain lyrics-

She crawls into the bed they share, curling up beside him, her hand softly resting upon his chest. She loves his warmth. She loves his scent. It's holding her sane. Because at least, someone loves her. And she loves him too, with all her heart. Together, they can handle all the horrors the Capitol subscribe them to. 'Hey sweetheart,' he whispers to her, his voice still muffled by sleep, as his hand covers the one on his chest. 'Hey honey,' she whispers back, resting her head comfortably onto his shoulder. 'Did I wake you up?' 'Doesn't matter. I couldn't sleep anyway,' he answers, turning towards her. They kiss. 'Rough night huh?' he mutters, tasting the dried tears on her cheeks. She only nods. She doesn't want to talk about it. He doesn't have the need to hear. 'Sst,' he shushes her as she begins to cry again. 'It's alright. It all over now love. They can't get to you when you're here. Just forget they exist.' He kisses her cheeks, her delicate jawbone, her neck…She clings onto him, taking any comfort he offers her. Their lovemaking is gentle, soft, genuine…not like the performance they're suppose to give when the others capture them. 'I love you Peeta,' she whispers into his ear when they finally dose off. He gives her one last kiss. 'I love you too Katniss.'

He's staring out of the window, looking down onto the big city. Once he felt like he was one of them…a warrior, made for the kill. A proud man. But now, they've even took that from him too. He bashes his hand onto the glass in anger. The man he was…that man died. Not in the arena though. Oh no, he hadn't been that blessed. The moment he won the games, he actually thought life would become better for him…he could go home…But oh, what a fool he was. The moment he was back in the Capitol, he was a prisoner in a golden cage. First he had liked it. The attention, the women, the money…but after a while, he got fed up with it. But they would not let him go. He was their toy, their property…and he would well know it! 'Come back to bed dear.' A woman's voice calls out to him. This one is twice his age, but at least she has some beauty. He definitely had worse…With a sigh, he obeys her wishes, letting her touch him as he lays himself beside her. Another sigh. This is going to be a long night.

With one swift motion he empties his glass, then grabs the bottle to fill it once more. It was his new best friend now. The bottle. After all those years, seeing his tributes slaughtered, his family slaughtered, everyone he cared about slaughtered…the booze was just the one thing he needed to cover his feelings. Hey, maybe it would even end his live one day. That would be ironic. He laughs at the idea. 'As if they would let me. No one escapes the Capitol without their permission,' he mummers, to drunk to even speak out loud. 'Come Haymitch,' Effie says, pulling him out of his chair. 'It's time you go to bed now. You have to be fit for the reaping tomorrow.' He allows her to drag him away, but not before he has his best buddy firmly clinched under his arm.

'Annie!' The outcry is a torture to anyone who could hear it. 'Annie!' Sobbing in pain, Finnick awakens, his body covered in sweat. 'Annie?' Automatically, his hand reaches out to the other side of the bed. Of course she isn't there though. All he sees is an empty spot. He's still shaking. The dream had been so real. So perfectly real. But she was not here anymore. She would never be here. 'Annie,' he mutters, letting the tears run freely over his pale face. It had been two weeks now since they murdered her. His love. His Annie. They just threw her into a pit with wild hounds. And why? Because they wanted to be amused! They laughed at her painful outcries when the dogs grabbed her limps, tearing her apart bit by bit before their eyes. His eyes. In their cruelty, those bastards actually made him watch. 'I kill them all,' he pledges to himself, making a fist. 'I don't know how, but someday, I kill them all!'

* * *

**a/n; well, like I wrote before, this contains a lot of drama. Hope you like the idea. Please let me know if I should give this story a try. **


	2. The First Cut Is The Deepest

**The first cut is the deepest**

The first time they came for her, she had just turned eighteen. The man they had sold her to must have been at the end of his twenties. He hadn't smelled too bad, and his appearance was quite nice, but she hated every moment she had to spend with him in that dark room. After everything was over, he just left her crying on the bed, without even a word of comfort for the girl he'd just used for his own pleasures.

It was her former district partner who found her later that night, curled up into a shivering ball of pain. 'Katniss?' he whispered to her in concern. When she didn't respond, he shook her shoulder, trying to reach her in her current state of shock. 'Go away,' she whimpered back, too far gone to even care that she lay there naked before his eyes.

But he didn't go. He just pulled her up into his strong arms, ignoring her protests, and carried her towards the bathroom instead. 'Hush now,' he said, as she began to cry against his muscular chest. 'It's over. I'm just going to bathe you.' As he cleaned her gently, he noticed the bruises on her body. He cursed inwardly. Those bastards.

'Peeta,' she said, after a long time of silence. He looked up from his work. Her glistering grey eyes were staring into the distance. 'Yes?' he asked, when she didn't continue. 'Will it always be like this?' Her already small voice died down as they sank back into an awkward silence. He didn't respond directly to her question. 'Yes,' he whispered eventually, deciding it would be better not to give her any false hope. He saw her gulp at that. 'He… he was harsh on you, wasn't he?'

She just nodded as another flow of tears rushed over her. He had trouble to remain calm himself. So much for the capitols promise to be gentle with her then. After he discovered their sick plans, he had tried to negotiate with them, hoping he could make it to be a bit less painful for her than it had been for him. It had cost him a lot though, both physically and mentally.

In an attempt to soothe her, he laid an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him into a comforting hug. She tensed up immediately at his touch. 'Katniss, whatever you do, don't let them get to you. It is exactly what they want.'

'But how? They will come back for me, right? I shall have to do this again.' In her distress, she buried her face into her hands. 'I cannot live this kind of life Peeta. I can't.'

'Yes you can. We all do.' Fighting against his own pain, he stroked the silky strands of her dark hair. He hated to see her like this. This was not the Katniss he had known from the games. That girl had been strong, defiant, and even arrogant. The girl sitting in front of him didn't even come close to that description. They had broken her, as they did to all the victors when they were released from the arena.

She had looked up at him in horror when the meaning of his words sank in. 'You…too then?' He nodded, not being able to put his shame down into words. She turned her face again, taken aback by the news. 'I'm sorry…I didn't knew that.'

'It's not exactly something you want to broadcast. But every victor has to face it eventually I guess.'

'When…?' She couldn't help but ask the question.

He sighed. 'A while ago. I think just a few months after the games were over.' Another long pause. 'Look, I know what you're going through right now. After my first time, I cried for three days in a row. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep…all I thought about was ending my life so they couldn't hurt me anymore. But I managed in the end. And so will you. And I will always be there for you, if you need me.'

This made her smile throughout her tears. 'Thanks Peeta. I will always remember that.'

* * *

This all happened three years ago. Back then, she didn't know it would only get more downhill. But it's amazing how people can adjust to the difficulties in live though. Over the years she'd them all; the pervert, the sadist, the drunkard… After a long time of abuse, she simply gave up caring about it anymore. Or at least, that was what she told herself. The truth was far from it.

As she stares into the mirror of her dresser with hollow grey eyes, she can only wonder who the image of the stranger before her belongs to. The Katniss she had been in the Seam is nowhere to be seen; the thick make-up she is wearing, the way they've styled her dark hair…thank goodness they didn't force her into plastic surgery yet. With a sigh she gets up from the bench. She snatches the long cocktail dress she had chosen earlier that day from her bed. She didn't want to go tonight. She rather wanted to stay with Peeta, putting on some candles, playing some music, drinking some wine… But they had requested her for this evening, so she had no choice but to obey unless she wanted to bear the consequences.

Another sigh escapes her lips as she slips her body into the white velvet; the dress is gorgeous, as always. Made from the finest cloths the first district has to offer. The same goes for the silver earrings she is wearing, and the pearl necklace. But she would trade it all in a minute for some normal clothes, a normal live back in the Seam.

She misses the hunt. She misses the color of the hardwood trees in autumn, the smell of the leaves in spring. She misses her little sister Prim, her childhood friend Gale. It's not prohibited to maintain any contact with people outside the capitol, but she doesn't want them to see her like this. She feels ashamed of her life, of what she had done in the arena, of what she had done afterwards. So as a result, she hadn't seen them since the reaping.

When she's finally dressed up, she takes one last glance in the mirror. A young, well build woman in a sexy white dress with a split stares right back at her. Hopefully they would be easy to please tonight. She grabs her purse and leaves the room, wishing the night was already over.


	3. Alone in the dark

**Alone in the dark**

He's just leaning over the window sill, gazing at the courtyard down below, when he notices his former tribute, all dressed up in a beautiful white gown. She is walking timidly over the stony tiles, her somewhat pale face turned towards he feet. He realises she's probably on her way to one of her clients. He takes another sip from his bottle to drown his scruples. Poor thing. If she had known what kind of fate awaits a victor of the games, she would have never insisted on his help. 'O well, what done is done. Can't change history I guess.' He turns his back to the window again, banishing her from his thoughts.

Another memory calls in on him though. It was the one he tried to drown with his booze for as long he could remember. A slender sixteen year old with hair the color of sand and a pair of big blue eyes that could rival the seas. But her major beauty had been her smile. When she smiled, the sun seemed to evaporate in her presence.

'_Oh come on Haymitch, don't be such a spoilsport. Lets have some fun! I know; I'll race you to the baker stand! And then, you may treat me on one of those delicious blueberry pies they have._'

Her name had been Arianey. Slightly older then him, she had been his neighbourhood friend since they both could walk around the house. A cheerful girl you could not help but love the moment you lay eyes on her. But she was gone now. Taken away by the cruelty of the capitol.

'Go back into the shadows you've came from,' he whispers angrily, not wanting to think of her, or what they'd done to her in order to get to him. He settles himself on a chair, staring in the distance.

'I'm about to, but would you mind letting me finish my drink first?'

Startled, he looks over at his guest, who's existence he had completely forgotten for a moment. The man quirks a brow. 'Just talking to yourself again, aren't you Haymitch? You know, they say it is one of the first signs for a mental illness. Just to inform you.'

'Oh, I'm sorry Plutarch. I didn't mean to ignore you. I… just got a little distracted, I guess.'

The younger man nods accordingly, gracefully putting down his cup and saucer. 'That's alright. It could happen to any man, and I know you don't do it on purpose.'

'No,' Haymitch agrees as he inhales deeply, heedlessly taking another sip from his bottle. He ignores Plutarch reproaching gaze.

'Don't mind me for saying this my friend, but you should not drink so much. It's obviously not good for your health.'

'Bite me,' Haymitch retorts in irritation. What was it with everyone being so negative about him drinking? Didn't they see the joy he gets from it? He smiles to provoke him. 'Why don't you take one yourself? You don't know what you're missing.'

'No thanks.' The other man sighs, dropping the subject quickly to avoid a quarrel. He hadn't come for that. There was other, much more important, business to discuss.

'So, any news from the districts then?' Haymitch asks after a while, calmed down a bit. 'How about the tensions in district five? Has Snow suppressed them yet?'

'Well, from what I've heard, the people are still stirring. It seems they haven't forgotten president Snows action yet.'

Haymitch nods in approval. Ten weeks ago, Snow had ordered a raiding for district five, after the murder of three peacekeepers in an uncontrolled riot. They'd arrested some political figures in the process and had them executed as an example for the others. One of them had been the eighteen year old Grayham Shane, the eldest son of Alderman Shane, who've just got elected for his fathers chair. They had shot him at the square on the charge of treason, in the presence of the summoned inhabitants. But they had forgotten the fact that he had been very popular with the people. As a result, the mass turned as one against the capitol, blaming them for the loss of their beloved icon. Snow had no choice but to send another flow of peacekeepers to retain control of the area. They've seemed to maintain the peace now, but from time to time, there were still incidents reported.

Plutarch looks down at his folded hands, caught up in thoughts. 'As long as the other districts will keep their distance, he will be able to contain it. But if only district two or four would join them in strength, it could eventually mean war.'

Haymitch could hear the heat in the other mans tone when he mentioned the word. War. It didn't do him much though. For him, he was already at war. A war he had to fight inside his own head. He takes another sip. 'Who cares. As long we don't suffer from it, it doesn't matter if they kill each other or not.'

His cold reaction takes Plutarch aback in disbelieve for a moment. He hesitates, but finally utters: 'But Haymitch, you're already suffering, don't you?'

He didn't respond to that. All he could think of were two innocent blue eyes, staring at him with pain.

'_You've been chosen,' she says, almost at the point of hysteria. When he just nods, she sobs. 'I…I wished we had more time,' he says, not knowing how to comfort the crying girl before him. She walks towards him, pushing something in his hand. He looks down on the gift. 'Please, hold it close to you when you're going in there. Hold it close, and think of me.' She kisses him, and he can taste the salt of her tears. Then the peacemakers come to take her away, and he is alone again, alone and heartbroken, fearing he would never see her again. Hold it close…_

'Arianey.'

'Arian...?' Plutarch repeats the name in surprise, then a sigh escapes his lips when it finally hits him why his friends is acting so absently. 'Haymitch, I know what she meant to you, but she's been gone for over more then twenty years now. Can't you just leave her in peace? Focus on the future instead of the past.'

'Easy for you to say. You haven't lost anyone in your whole life! Damn it!' He jumps out of his chair and starts crossing the room back and forth. 'You…you're not responsible for the death of somebody you loved.'

'Nor are you. It was the capitol. They've done it to her. It was not your fault.'

Plutarch stands up also, gathering his stuff before he puts a hand on Haymitch shoulder. 'I know this is not the best time to leave, but I have to go. I'm sorry. Please, don't beat yourself up like this. They are not worth it.'

Having that said, he leaves the room. Haymitch follows him into the hallway to close the door behind him, when he turns for the last time towards Haymitch. 'But we have to discuss about our plans later. You know it's important. It could really change the future of Panem forever, if this flame will continue to burn in the hearts of the districts.'

'Whatever,' he mummers after the other man had left, and he stands alone in the living room. His eyes are back on the bottle again. Just one last nightcap, then he would go to bed. Sitting down on the couch, he grabs it, only finding it empty. 'Damn!'

* * *

When he goes to bed that night, while pulling the woollen covers tightly against his chest, he hopes he is just wasted enough to avoid any nightmares. But when he closes his eyes, she's already with him.

They're back in district twelve, laying beside each other on a red blanket they've placed onto the grass of the meadow. She laughs, drinking from the water they had taken with them. 'You know,' she says, while she puts her glass down and starts to rub his chest with expert hands, 'I think that was just the best sex I've ever had.' He rises himself on his arms, looking her straight in the eye with a satisfied smile. 'Oh? And me thinking I was you're first,' he teases her, kissing the lips that are still swollen from their previous lovemaking. She giggles, placing her arms around his neck to pull him closer. 'You betcha.' They deepen their kiss, cherishing each other with gentle hands before she pulls back again. He can only look at her with desire in his eyes. 'What's wrong?'

'Nothing,' she says quickly, pushing a fallen strand back behind her ear. 'It's just…it's all so wonderful, I cant believe we are actually laying here. I mean…' He sees she's becoming emotional, so he takes her into his arms again, shushing her with comforting words. She laughs through her tears. 'O, I'm acting silly right?'

'Not at all love, not at all.'

He begins to kiss her again, and again, and again, until their bodies are tangled into each other once more; he's laying on top of her while she wraps her legs around his waist, urging him to speed up. When he finally does, she screams out his name, taken by the heat of their joining.

'That was so good,' she whispers to him when all is over, and they lay there, panting from their efforts. 'I didn't hurt you now, did I?' he asks in concern, knowing he had been a bit rough on her. Her face takes an offensive look, but her eyes smile. 'Have you gone completely mad Haymitch Abernathy? Of course not!' She throws herself onto him, pinning his wrist down in the process. 'Who do you think I am, just some fragile girl or something? In fact, you may do that to me as much as you like, because I can't get enough of it.'

They both laugh at this, kissing and tickling and teasing each other till they both fall asleep on the blanket. 'Haymitch?' she asks, before he is completely under. 'Yes love?'

'Promise me you will never leave me?'

'... I promise Arianey,' Haymitch mutters back in his sleep, tears falling from his cheeks as he lays there, alone in the dark.


	4. Birthday wishes

**Birthday wishes**

He's just on his way back to their apartment when they came for him. One has canary yellow hair, the other is pink with purple outlines. They're eyeing at him if he is just some tasty treat, ready to be devoured. Great, he thinks sourly, seeing all his plans for tonight going up into smoke. 'Hey you,' the youngest of the two purrs. He can smell the stench of alcohol on their breath as they approach him. Still he smiles at them; they always seem to like it when he smiles. 'Hello, can I help you ladies?'

'I would think so…We were just waiting for you tiger,' the pink one whispers seductively into his ear, putting her hand onto his chest. 'Why don't you come with us?'

He knows he can better not refuse them. 'And where do you ladies want to go?'

Charming them, he lays each of his strong arms onto their bony shoulders. 'Well, we were thinking about our apartment,' yellow hair giggles, blushing lightly. Another fake smile forms around his mouth. 'Sounds good to me.'

As they guide him away, all he thinks about is Katniss. He had such high hopes for this evening. After all, it was her birthday. But it seems she has to celebrate it on her own tonight.

'You know,' yellow hair begins, taking him in with hungry eyes, 'I really admired the way you were always there for you district partner at the games. How was it you two were called again…the star-crossed lovers?'

He only nods absently, barely listening to a word she says. When she notices, a frown appears on her forehead. 'Hey, are you alright? You're going to enjoy the night, aren't you?'

'Of course. How could I not, with such fine ladies to share my time with?'

He wants to gag, knowing how cheesy the line sounds. But this is the stuff they so eagerly want to hear, so he says it without hesitation. And yes. In no-time, she is smiling again, her eyes glowing with delight at his compliment. 'Oh you! What a charmer you are.'

'We will have a lot of fun together, now won't we?' Pinkie chuckles, not being able to keep her hands off him. Her hand slips under his shirt, rubbing the six-pack under it with exploring fingers. Her hand feels rough and alien on his skin, not at all like Katniss soft hand when she touches him.

'Can't we be your star-crossed lovers?' They ask as one, laughing at their own silliness. He grimaces at this, but luckily, they don't notice; they're too busy with themselves. They keep chatting to each other as they continue their walk, making all kinds of jokes while comparing the other victors of the game. Most of the names they mention he doesn't even know, but some do sound familiar. Like Finnick Odair, the victor from district four. 'Such a handsome guy he is,' Pinkie says, provokingly licking her lips only at the thought of him. 'And such a great lover too.' Yellow hair nods in agreement, sighing in awe as to make her point. 'But we like you also,' she says to Peeta. Actually, he could care less.

'Well, we're here,' Pinky states grinningly, getting the keys from her pocket to open the door for them. He brazes himself as they guide him in. As soon the door closes behind them, yellow hair is already onto him, bringing her arms firmly around his neck to pull him into a passionate kiss. He answers it with no emotion, but she doesn't seem to care. 'Come,' she whispers to him with a reassuring smile, breaking off the kiss to pull him with her again. As they settle themselves on the couch, Pinky pours some red wine into three glasses, offering two of them to Peeta and yellow hair. 'Thank you Edine,' yellow hair says while taking the glass from her friend. She almost immediately brings it to her lips for a sip.

Edine only grins. 'Your welcome Ivy. Well, let us make it ourselves comfortable, shall we?'

For a while they just sit there, drinking and laughing. He drinks from the wine they offer him, although it tastes too bitter for his taste. Again, he is wondering how Katniss is doing. Oh, he would give everything to be with her right now, instead of being here with these two brods.

Suddenly, Erin calls him back into reality. 'Why don't you take your shirt off? It's very warm in here. As a matter of fact, why don't we all?' And without the slightest discomfort or anything, she pulls her sweater over her head, revealing a sexy red bra and a lot of bare skin. Ivy follows her example quickly. Peeta has no choice. When he sits there, his upper body exposed before their greedy eyes, he doesn't feel very sexy at all. They, however, don't agree with that. 'Take a look at those fine muscles,' Ivy sighs in admiration, following the hard lines with her fingertips. 'It makes one wonder,' she continues, her voice a bit husky now, 'what else those clothes are hiding from us.'

'There is only one way to find out,' Edine says before he can even answer, bringing her hands directly towards his jeans, unflying his zipper. He hisses when her right hand slips through the opening, cupping him without mercy. 'Ah,' she says, smirking with delight at his reaction. 'Well Ivy, I don't think he will disappoint us.'

O no. He always hated this part the most. The part where his own body betrays him. He desperately wants to throw her off, but he can't. 'Ah,' he moans with clenched jaws, as she continues to administrate him with an experts hand. 'You like this, don't you?' she taunts him, brushing his lip with her own, as Ivy helps him out of the rest of his clothes, leaving him all naked. He only nods at her question, mentally seeking for a way out of here. He cannot flee from them entirely, but at least he can go to that one special place inside his head until everything is over and done. If they want it so badly, they may have his body. But his mind would stay his.

And so he locks himself up, dissociating his emotions completely from what happens next, giving the full control of his actions over to his body.

This time, as she pulls him towards her for another kiss, he responds to it as always; hard and lustful. He's never tender or caring with other woman, saving that part of him exclusively for Katniss. But it doesn't mind her. In fact, it is actually turning her on. 'O my, what an eager.'

As they kiss, he feels a warm tongue going over his length, licking him all over. 'That's right,' Ivy whispers as another moan escapes his lips. 'Give yourself over to us.'

Her lips close themselves around his tip, sucking at him playfully. Instinctively, he trusts his hips upwards, burying himself into the heat of her mouth. It makes her retch for a second, but then she continues more fervently, clearly enjoying the palpable power she has over him. She nearly brings him to the edge already when her friend suddenly stands up impatiently, pulling his heated body with her towards the bedroom. And all he can do is follow.

* * *

When he lies there afterwards on the king sized bed, covered in a sheen of sweat and other bodily fluids, with Edine at his right side and Ivy at his left, totally wasted from their previous actions, he can only stare at the ceiling above him. He feels nothing, not even ashamed after all what happened, although they had used him up pretty good tonight. He would probably suffer from muscle ache tomorrow. But he didn't care. That would be his punishment. His punishment for missing Katniss' birthday. That he wasn't there for her, wasn't there to keep her company, to sing for her, to give her the present he had bought for her... They took that from her.

He looks at the two woman sleeping beside him, wondering if it would be ok for him to disappear to his own lodgings. Not that he could offer them anything they didn't already took from him. So as silent as possible, he rises from the bed, tip toeing towards the door so he could get his clothes back. Although he longs for a shower, it has to wait till later; first he has to get out of there. When he's dressed again, he goes for the final challenge; he leaves the apartment, closing the door behind him as gentle as possible.

He sighs when he hears the click. He has escaped once more, but only for today. They could always come back for him tomorrow.

Another sigh comes from his lips, as he wishes for this nightmare to be all over so that he and Katniss could return to the Seam and have a normal live again.

Dream on Peeta, he mocks to himself bitterly. Life would never be normal. You can't erase some parts of your life, pretending they didn't happen…you just can't. The pain, the shame, they will always be present, no matter what would happen. It's a disturbing thought. But alas, it is also a realistic one.

One last sigh, and he's heading back towards the apartment he and Katniss share. He wonders. What would have been her birthday wishes?

* * *

**a/n'; I've always trouble writing in detail about the sex, especially because in this scenario people are forced to it, so I hope I haven't offended anyone with it. Anyway, thanks for reading this ... I know it is a bit sinister and all, and no, i'm not having a depression right now, its just something I came up with and had to write. **

**Well, enough already, just**** stay tuned for the next chapter. I promise, there will be other things then just evil sex coming up soon. Oh, and please, if it is not to much to ask, please review. I like reviews :-) **

**To TenshiM1: Thank you so much for you kind reviews. Yes, there is a lot of drama in here, but I hope you enjoyed this chapter also. **


	5. Old Friends

**Old friends**

The community house is packed tonight. People are enjoying themselves with the great amount of food and liquor that's being served; no one is paying much attention to the silent figure, sitting all by himself in the dark shadows of a corner.

Finnick Odair doesn't only feels miserable, he looks like it too. Lost in his thoughts, he just plays with the empty glass in front of him. With those dark circles under his eyes, the emptiness in their sea green depths, he's not exactly the handsome gentleman he used to be; he looks more like a rough pirate on one of his sea journeys. His somewhat long, bronze colored hair is put together into a sloppy ponytail, and he has even grown a beard now a days, not having the willpower to take proper care of himself anymore. What's the point of it, really? It's not that she was here to witness his downfall.

'Hey. You!' He impatiently beckons a passing waitress. 'Give me another one of these will ye. And be quick about it!' He shouts, passing his glass over to her. She shrinks back, but nods timidly, taking the glass. He shakes his head as he watches the Avox go. His behaviour is getting worse too; he shouldn't have shouted at her like that. After all, she's just another sad victim of the capitol's power.

_Look at yourself!_

'Huh?' Startled, he turns his head, looking at the seat next to him. It is empty, but he could have sworn he heard a woman's voice coming from there. Her voice to be precise.

_Look at you love… What do you think you're doing? Drinking and feeling sorry for yourself? I barely even recognise you! _

'What?' he mutters, not knowing what's happening to him. That voice, Annies voice…this is impossible, yet, he hears her as clear as if she was sitting right beside him. Has he finally become completely bonkers? 'You're not real…'

_Of course I'm not real. I died, remember?_

'Yes…' he whispers, as tears cloud his view again. 'Yes, how could I forget?'

The ghost in his head sighs._ O Finnick…I know it is hard for you, but you have to go on. Life hasn't finished with_ _you yet. You have to find a way to get away from there, to start a new life. _

'But how? And why? You know I cannot live without you.'

Another sigh. _You don't have to, love…I will always be at your side_…

'Annie?' Silence. 'Annie,' he says, more persistent this time. No one answers.

But some of the people around him have broken off their conversation to reluctantly stare at him. 'Hey, are you alright buddy?' one man asks, shaking his shoulder to get his attention. He brushes the hand off immediately. 'Don't touch me,' Finnick says in a dangerously low tone, looking in the direction of the man with piercing eyes. The man recoils. 'Well excuse me,' he says, not at all amused by Finnicks aggressive behaviour. 'I was only trying to help.'

When the Avox girl returns with his drink, the other man snatches it from her tray before Finnick has the chance. 'I think this young man has had quite enough. What is your name anyway, boy?'

'Is it of any concern to you?' Finnick responds boldly, just as one of the surrounding girls shouts: 'No. It can't be… is that really…Finnick Odair, one of the most sought after bachelors in the city? Oh my gosh!' Her high pitched voice cuts right through him as he panics. O no! Not another mad female groupie! He has to get out of here.

He jumps onto his feet. 'O, look at the time! I have to go. If you all would excuse me.' But he's not quick enough; before he can get away, the girl has already reached him. Laughing brightly, she clutches on to him. 'Oh, don't go. Stay, please. It not too late, and we could have a lot of fun you know. My friends…the told me so much about you...'

'I'm not in the mood,' he briskly responds, trying to ignore the fingers that are rubbing his back.

'Oh, but I know some ways to change all that,' she beams.

'Don't waste your time lass. I don't think you would have much fun with him.'

They all look up to the individual who has just spoken. A dark headed guy, about Finnick's age, tall and haughty, is gazing at them from the smouldering hearth. Although his face is mostly hidden by the shadows, Finnick recognises him right away. A flame of hate rises up from the depths of his soul. Him!

'What makes you say that?' the woman asks curiously, eying at the man in her arms in confusion.

'Because he is still mourning his lost love… Annie, I believe her name was?' The man laughs disdainfully, as if as if he has just mentioned something trivially amusing. 'You're still not over her, aren't you Finnick?'

_No! Finnick! Please, don't!_ The Annie in his head begs in fear for what will come next. But he cannot help his anger. A snarl escapes Finnicks thin lips as he's squinting at his foe. 'You know damn well, you son of a bitch!' Without thinking he launches himself onto the laughing man, pushing the woman away in the process; his fist already aiming for his chin.

* * *

'Wow, watch were you're going pal!'

Peeta is just in time to keep the man from collapsing. When he looks at the drunk, a bottle in his somewhat shaky hand, he recognises his old mentor. 'Haymitch? Goodness man, what happened to you?' He knows of Haymitch's drinking problem, but this is just pitiful. 'I've never seen you this wasted before.'

'Well, that's because we don't see each other often,' the other man backfires laughingly as Peeta guides him to an empty chair, so he can sit down. When he does, Peeta takes the chair next to him. There is a woman waiting for him in the lobby, but she can wait a little longer for all he cared. His friend is much more important. 'You're supposed to be at the reaping. What will Effie have to say about this?'

Haymitch huffs. 'That crappy old bitch! She is the one who told me not to come. Said I'd better sober up before I present myself to those two innocent lambs.' He laughs without any joy. 'I remember that time you and Katniss first laid eyes on me…boy, what was she pissed! She could have killed me right there on the spot.' His smile fades as quickly as it had materialised. 'I wish she had though. That would have been something.'

He's about to take another sip from his drink, but Peeta snatches it away from him. 'I think you've had quite enough already. Honestly. At least wait until the games are over. You can't do this to your pupils. They need you now if they want to stand a chance in the arena..'

This is making Haymitch laugh again. 'A chance? A chance! Boy, you've been here for over five years now. Do you really think you are better off then any of those dead tributes?' He shakes his head in disgust. 'Trust me lad, I'm doing them a huge favor by just letting them get killed. At least it will be a lot quicker than the death we die here.'

Peeta doesn't argue with him about that. Of course he has his doubts about the future, but he doesn't want to think it's all hopeless. 'There has to be a way to end this nightmare. There has! I'm sure a day will come when they all get bored with us and start to ignore us. When that day comes, we can finally go home.' He clings onto that thought, even after all what happened. The thought of a better life for him and Katniss.

Haymitch smirks at that. 'Nice to have dreams. Only a pity they never come true.' He leans towards Peeta, a hand stretched out. 'Now give me that bottle son. Let me have my dreams too.'

Suddenly, he sobers up almost instantly as his eyes catch something taking place behind Peeta. 'O shit!'

'What?' Peeta glances over his shoulders, to see what has caught his friend's attention. He is just in time to see the redhead, slamming his fist against another mans face.

Haymitch almost knocks his chair down to the floor in his haste to get up. Without a word, he dashes toward the troublemaker, inadvertently pushing the spectators who were blocking his path. 'Are you out of your mind Finnick? Let the man go.'

'Don't try to stop me. He was there. He just let them kill her,' the other man cries in anger, still holding his knock-out victim by the hem of his shirt. He's about to deliver another blow to the unconscious man, when Haymitch blocks it, pulling him away instead. 'Come. We better get going, before the Peacekeepers come and take you in.'

'Let them. I do not care. What's the worst they could do to me, now they've taken my last joy in life away? Tell me, huh!'

'This is not the place, nor the time to discuss this,' Haymitch warns him firmly, looking over at the shocked faces of the people around them. Not one of them makes an effort to interfere yet; their all to afraid of Finnick's aggression to try. 'Come with me, now!'

He takes him by the arm and quickly signals at Peeta to follow them, rousing him from his paralyzed state of shock. Needing no further encouragement, he obeys immediately. 'What was that all about?' he demands, hastily following the other two towards the exit. His forced date is completely forgotten.

Haymitch ignores him completely though, as he is concentrating on the man he is dragging along. 'You idiot! What the hell were you thinking? Killing yourself won't bring Annie back you know. Get a grip on yourself man!'

'I cannot help it. I just miss her so much.' The other man breaks into tears. 'You don't know what she meant to me. She was everything to me. And now, she gone.'

'And you live, so cut the crap and move your ass! Oh, this is Peeta by the way.'

'Hi.' Peeta just waves with his hand as a greet. Finnick simply nods, fighting against another flow of tears. 'H…hi to you too.'

'Were are we going anyway?' Peeta asks after several moments of silence. They were out of the community house and onto the street now, passing all kinds of houses.

'To an old friend of mine,' Haymitch answers, turning left into another alley. His eyes shoot back to Finnick. 'He will keep your head low for the time being, until all this has blown over. Damn it Finnick, you have gotten yourself into an enormous amount of trouble this time. You've attacked a citizen of the capitol, for crying out loud!'

'I…I couldn't help myself. When I saw that bastard…and then that laugh…he knew what would happen when he gave her to those men. It was a punishment you see…' Taken over by his emotions, Finnick is no longer able to speak.

Haymitch takes another look around, probably checking if nobody is following them. 'Well, you can explain it all when we reach our destination. Until then, I suggest we better stifle this conversation. You never know who's eavesdropping.'

Peeta nods at that, although he is dying to know what happened. From what he just heard, he understood that the man had just lost someone who was very dear to him. A girlfriend maybe? But why would they have done such a thing?

They finally stopped for a small house. 'We're here,' Haymitch announces, while raising his knuckles to the oak wood door to loudly bang it. Moments later, a man opens the door in awe. 'Haymitch, what is the meaning…?'

'Plutarch, we need your help. Can we talk with you for a second?' Haymitch asks, already pushing Finnick inside the hall before the other man can refuse him.


	6. No shit, Sherlock

**disclaimer: I don't own any rights; the hunger games and all its characters are property of Suzanne Collins.**

* * *

**No shit, Sherlock**

'This whole thing has grown much more severe than he'd ever imagined and it's obvious he cannot handle it. Although he claims otherwise, every fool with eyes can see his defences have weakened the last few weeks. So why not use it in our benefit? Has his reign not last long enough? The districts, they have given us the signal, so why not act and-'

The speaker, a proud tall man with bright white stripes at his temples, immediately goes mute when the loud bang interrupts his heated speech, upset by the alarming sound. A soft whispering fills the damp basement as the group of spectators exchanges nervous glances, wondering who the unknown guest could be. 'Are you by any chance expecting someone?' a woman whispers as she turns her awfully pale face to their host.

Plutarch just shakes his head, keeping it cool as he slowly rises from his chair. 'Not that I know of…all of you, stay here while I go and check. Whoever it is, I will try to detain them.' But as he starts to climb the small wooden stairs of the basement, followed by a dozen pair of eyes, his heart is racing in his chest. It's not he'd never dealt with this kind of situation before, but still, every time he fears it could be one of Snow's peacekeepers, ready to take them all in. Of course he's aware of the risks that are involved. If Snow ever find out about this, he will have them executed in a blink of an eye.

But he is no fool. He always makes proper preparations when assembling a meeting like this. And more than once he has considered himself lucky with the abilities of his house. It had been in his family for ages, and every member had equipped it with a little surprise. Like this hidden passageway, which connected the living room with the basement, the scullery, the kitchen and the dining room. It was build by his great-grandfather many years ago, and although it has outgrown its original use – a handy passageway for the servants – it is rather useful for this sort of things, because the basement is only reachable by this passageway. Stepping into his living room, he secures the door behind him with utmost care; it disappears neatly into the wall, leaving no trace of its existence.

Another loud bang resounds from the hallway; clearly whoever it is, is in a hurry. In seconds, Plutarch switches the television on and hurries himself towards the kitchen, taking a glass of wine in hand; at least he now has a plausible story ready in case they would question him. 'Alright, I'm coming already,' he grumbles as the noise intensifies with the minute. 'Can't a man just enjoy his night off in peace?' When he finally answers the door, he sees three sets of eyes staring right back at him. This is unexpected; abruptly he's forgotten his fear as bafflement takes over. 'Haymitch? What is the meaning…?'

'Plutarch, we need your help. Can we talk to you for a second?'

'Well, you know my door is always open to you-' he begins, before he gets pushed aside by Haymitch who's obviously not in the mood to wait for a proper invitation. He's dragging a trembling redhead with him. Plutarch has no other choice but to make room for them in the already cramped hallway. '- but next time I would appreciate it if could inform me on beforehand,' he finishes his sentence, although nobody is listening.

When they are all in and Haymitch has closed the door behind them, he sighs in relief. They made it. At least Finnick would be save now. Catching his breath, he then turns to his friend. 'Normally I would have Plutarch, but there was no time. I'm sorry for bothering you like this, I really am, but I couldn't think of a better place to go. I hope we're not interrupting something?'

If that could've only been the case. 'Well actually, you're timing isn't exactly-' Plutarch begins, still a bit overwhelmed by their invasion, before Haymitch interrupts him again, placing his hand upon the other mans shoulder. 'Please Plutarch, please. You know I would never ask you for anything unless it was important. And this is.'

His eyes scoot back to Finnick as an angry frown adorns his forehead. 'This man here has gotten himself into some serious trouble I'm afraid; he has attacked a citizen of the capitol tonight. In front of a lot of witnesses no less. I was able to get him out of there before the peacekeepers could get a hold of him, but he will need a hiding place until this whole thing has blown over. I was hoping you could provide him that?'

Plutarch doesn't respond right away; absentmindedly, he takes a large gulp from his glass instead. He needs a moment to clear his mind. His first intention was to kick them all back on the street, but after hearing this, it no longer seems to be an option. But he could not keep them here either; it was too risky. 'First things first. Are you sure you're not being followed by anyone?'

Haymitch snorts at that, acting offended. 'Of course I'm sure. What are you taking me for? I would never put you at risk. Now, will you help?' he asks, getting more and more suspicious with the minute. Why is Plutarch acting so reticent? Normally, he would be the first guy in line to offer a helping hand where needed. 'Plutarch, Is something the matter?'

'No! It's just…' The other man sighs; he still hesitates, but as his eyes roam over the broken man with the red hair, he knows he will not abandon him; he just cannot ignore a cry for help, not even with eleven people waiting anxiously for his return in his stuffy basement. Crap, what had he gotten himself into?

'Well, let us go to the living room then, shall we? You all look as though you could need a good drink.' As he escorts them into the living room he shoots one final glance at the hidden door, assuring himself it is well concealed in its surroundings. Haymitch notice this, but doesn't comment on it. His main concern is Finnick; he could always question Plutarch about his odd behaviour later.

'I don't have much to offer, so I hope you all like wine.' Plutarch begins, taking a decanter from the cabinet to pour some of the red liquid in three crystal glasses. As he is handing them out, he pauses to look at Finnick. 'I think I remember you. Odair is the name, right?' The man just nods, grasping the glass in silence; the next moment, he guzzles away most of the wine in one swift motion.

'Peeta,' Peeta introduces himself when he gets his glass. The older man looks somewhat familiar to him, but he can not get his finger on it. But he knows it had something to do with the games. Then all of the sudden he gets a flash of him, standing not too far behind the Head Gamemaster when he had his demonstration. The realisation puzzles him. If he was one of them, why would Haymitch trust him?

Plutarch just nods in understanding. 'Yes, I know. I never forget the faces of those who where so unfortunate to meet me at the Games. You were the boy from district twelve with the weights, five years ago.' Was Peeta mistaken, or did he really see a flickering of regret in the mans eyes just before he turned away?

'If I didn't think so!' Finnick jumped from his chair, spilling the rest of his drink in the motion while he looks at the man as if he could drink his blood. 'Damn it Haymitch, how could you? Of all the people in the world, you have to drag me to one of the game makers! I thought you wanted to help me!'

'And I am, so sit down Finnick.' Haymitch cautions him while he scowls, glaring over his glass. 'Plutarch has been my friend for almost twenty years now, and trust me; you cannot be in better hands at the moment. So instead of acting like a complete idiot, tell us why you knocked that man down, because I don't know about these two, but I'm dying to know.'

Finnick opens his mouth to continue his protest, and then closes it again. If he is honest with himself, he cannot think of a reason why he should. It was not like he's going to tell them any secrets. Except for one, but he wasn't so naïve to think he could keep that one for very long. They will find out eventually. He sighs, letting himself fall back on the couch in an act of surrender. After all what happened, he has no longer the will to fight anymore.

So he tells them about his forbidden relationship with Annie, the woman he had loved and cherished since childhood. About the fact that she also had an admirer in the Capitol, one who was very persistent and even wanted to marry her. About his own jealousy. About her rejection of the man, about her fear. And how all these combined factors finally had led to her gruesome, premature death. He doesn't tell them everything though, keeping the most painful details for himself. But at least he has given them the basics.

When he has finished his story, nobody makes a noise for quite some time. Even Haymitch is moved by what he had heard, and that said something. He had known about Finnick and Annie being close, but he never knew they were more than just good friends. It has a haunting similarity to his own situation, all those years ago.

Plutarch is about to open his mouth, when they all heard a sudden noise at the hidden door. A young females head peeks around it, only to get the shock of her life when she realises she's suddenly the centre of everyone's attention. Plutarch is immediately with her.

'Sarah, what are you doing here? Go back to the others at once.' He hisses to her, although he knows it's already too late. The woman, her eyes wide with fear, knows this too. 'I'm so sorry Plutarch, but I really need to use the bathroom. I listened at the door first, but it was all quiet…I didn't know you were still here. I…I thought I could risk it.'

'I knew something was off! Alright, what's going on?' Haymitch is also on his feet, his eyes scanning both their faces in suspicion. Plutarch just sighs, nodding to the woman that she may go, and she hurriedly makes it to the hallway. 'I told you your timing wasn't exactly great,' he starts his explanation as he turns towards Haymitch, while thinking desperately of an excuse. 'I have company.'

'I've noticed. The only question remains, _why_ is she here? And _why_ was she hiding in your basement? At least, I believe it is your basement back there?' Haymitch is about to push the door so he can investigate what's behind it, but Plutarch is quicker. 'Don't,' he calls out, sliding his body in front of it, stopping him before he can do anything. 'I'm sorry Haymitch, but I can't tell you. It's too important.'

'What is? Wait…no…don't tell me you're playing one of your games again,' Haymitch begins, but is caught off guard by the sound of a metal click. 'Don't move! Don't move, or I will shoot you,' the woman named Sarah bellows from the doorpost, a small, silver coloured gun in hand, pointing it directly at Haymitch.

Plutarch groans; this was all getting out of hand. If only he never had answered the door. 'Sarah, what the hell do think you doing? Put that gun away right this instant. You're only making it worse!'

She responds by taking the gun in both hands, steadying herself for the backfire. 'They know too much. If any of this is repeated to the wrong people, we're all dead. Don't you see I have to kill them?'

Haymitch, too surprised to react right away, only stares at her for a moment. Then his usual sarcasm takes over. He shakes his head, even steps aside to make an easier target for her. 'Well, go on then. Make my day and pull the trigger. I don't care much about my life.' First she thinks that Haymitch is mocking her, but the expression in his eyes tells her otherwise. It confuses her.

'But at least tell me what's going on. I have the right to know what I'm dying for.'

'O shut up Haymitch. You really like your drama, don't you? No one is shooting anyone today. Sarah, put that gun down, now! These are my friends you're threatening.'

She still hesitates. 'Are you sure?'

But before he could answer, the door swings open again, causing him to fall forward, right into Haymitch. 'Is everything alright? We heard someone screaming,' the man with the white striped temples utters as he takes in the situation.

'Yes, everything is perfect Albus. Absolutely perfect!' The expressed sarcasm in Plutarch's tone could not go unnoticed. It was obvious now that he was fighting for a lost cause. With one final sigh, he turns to Haymitch, still clinging onto him for balance. 'Haymitch, you remember about _the meeting_ I invited you for? Well…this is the secret brotherhood I was talking about.'

'No shit,' is Haymitch dry reply.

* * *

a/n: Well, it took me an awfull lot of time to upload this chapter, but I will try to upload my next chapter a lot faster. Thank you all for reading!


	7. Tears and Joys

**disclaimer: I don't own any rights; the hunger games and all its characters are property of Suzanne Collins.**

* * *

**Tears and Joys**

Still a little mulling over what he had heard, Peeta turn the key to his apartment door. Katniss must be home; the light in the hallway is on. As he enters their living room, he sees her, sitting on the couch, a letter in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. The moment she detects his presence, she looks up, but doesn't go over to greet him. 'Where have you been?' is all she says, more out of concern than anything else. Still, her puffed, red stained eyes are telling him she has been crying. 'I was with a friend,' he tells her, taking the seat beside her as she scoots over for him. She just nods, not being able to look at him. 'They have been asking for you. It seemed you have kept a girl waiting at the Plaza tonight?'

O yeah. He'd totally forgotten about her! He runs his hand through his already messy hair, closing his eyes as he contemplates his stupidity. 'I'm so sorry love. It was not my intention to leave her. It's just…something happened last night. Something bad. I just couldn't go.'

'They wanted to know where you were. I told them the truth, that I didn't know, but I don't believe they took my word for it.' Still shaky, she flings her arms around his neck, holding him tightly against her. 'I was so afraid. They said they would come back later, but I know they are going to make us pay for this. How could you be so stupid?'

'Sht. Everything is going to be alright. Trust me. I will not allow anyone to hurt you.' He lays his index finger under her chin, letting her look up at him. He loves her eyes. Every time he looks into those grey depths, he gets mesmerized by them. She only nods in return, fighting against the tears that are still leaking from the corner of her eyes. 'Our love is the only thing that counts.' He leans in to taste the saltiness from her cheeks.

'Oh Peeta…' She closes her eyes, forgetting her worries for a second. She pulls him closer as her lips search for his, kissing him with a combination of pure love and simple passion. He reacts immediately. Slowly he undresses her, exploring her body inch by inch with his lips as he uncovers her neck, her collarbone, her shoulders…she gasps for air as the fabric sensually slides down to uncover her breasts. But before he can go further, she pushes him away with a playful smile. 'Not here. I know a much better place for this.'

He only nods; at this moment he would follow her to the end of the moon if she wanted him to. Taking his big hand in hers, she directs him to their bathroom. He eagerly follows, not wanting to waste a minute of kissing and lovemaking. She is so beautiful, everything he ever dreamed of. And she is his. No matter what claim the Capitol lays on her, she is his forever.

As she fumbles with the doorknob, he starts to kiss her again, undoing the rest of her clothing. 'O my, you're eager tonight,' she purrs into his ear, her face already flushed by her upcoming want. They practically fall into the room when the door finally swings open. He smiles at her in return, taking her earlobe between his teeth to nibble it. 'How can I not be, knowing it is you I'm holding right now?'

'Well, you should have a little more patience I'm afraid.' She switches the lights on, and walks towards the bath to fill it with water. She begins to discard herself of the rest of her clothing, driving him even more insane with hunger. He craves her body but every time he tries to get closer, she playfully manoeuvres herself out of his reach. 'I said patience my love.'

Her eyes are glowing with pleasure. He sighs, giving up pursuit. He know she relish this role. Being the one in control, the one who calls the shots. It gives her a sense of power. He lets her. As long he can hold her, he doesn't mind. So he does what else is left to do for him; he begins to undress himself. First his shoes, because that's just an easy task. Then he begins to unbutton his shirt. He's aware of her attention, of her almond eyes watching him closely through her black lashes… His smile becomes a bit cocky as he disposes himself of the shirt, showing her his muscular chest.

She doesn't move, only stares at him as he continues; this time he is unzipping his trousers. Her heart is raising in her chest, and she find it a miracle she hasn't passed out yet. She swallows hard. He is so beautiful, her Peeta. Her boy with the bread. The one that always stays at her side, even when the rest of the world has given up on her. Yes, she had been with a lot of guys by now, but none could compare with him, not even the pretty ones, not even the nice ones. Because they all missed one thing. The love that is so clearly present in those sparkeling blue orbs.

To distract herself, she turns her back to him, taking a bottle from one of the cupboards. As she unscrews the top a touch of lavender reaches her nostrils; enjoying the scent, she closes her eyes for a moment to inhale it deeply. Carefully, as not to spill too much, she pours some drops into the bathtub. Then she feels his lips again. He's gently kissing the nape of her neck as his hands cup her breasts, pulling her back to him. She can feel he's naked all the way now.

'Peeta-' she begins before he turns her around, claiming her lips in a rough kiss with a soft moan. For a moment she gets scared, overwhelmed by his sudden roughness, but then relaxes again. This is Peeta after all. He would never hurt her. Bending over to put one arm under her knees, he gently lifts her from the floor into his arms, then lowers her into the warm water of the tub. As the warmth surrounds her, she hold out her arms, inviting him to join her. He submits quickly.

They start to kiss again, and this time Katniss makes sure she is on top of him. She sits on his lap, leaning forward as her tongue struggles with his, her fingertips following the hard line of his muscles, inspecting the broad shoulders. When their lips part, she's mews, drinking in the beauty of his body with her eyes. His are dilated with passion, intoxicated by the lovely view she's giving him in return. His hands go up again, tenderly administrating her nipples. First with his index finger and thumb, then his lips take over. Instinctively, she lays back, curving her body to grant him full access, her hands resting behind his neck.

After a while her hand reaches under water, touching his throbbing erection. He jerks under her in response, biting the tender flesh between his teeth. She moans, but continues nonetheless, stroking him in a soft rhythm. His breathing becomes even more unsteady now, as he closes his eyes to enjoy what she's doing. Then he returns the favor, sliding his hand to her moist folds to that one special place that always makes her weak with desire.

'Katniss…' he whispers in a husky tone, pulling her back against his chest again. It even gets her more exited. 'Don't you think it's time for bed?'

'Why?' she asks innocently, her voice as husky as his, already knowing what he's going to say. He grumbles, nibbling on her earlobe. 'Because I want you. Because I need you. Because I'll go nuts if I can't possess you right now.'

She lays her head to rest on his shoulder, closing her eyes as a hint of a smile covers her lips. 'Well, than I suggest you take me to our bedroom.'

He doesn't need more encouragement from her. As quick as he can move, he lifts her from the water, but almost slips over the wet floor tiles in his impatience to get out. She chuckles, tightly holding on to him. He shoves the door open with his shoulder; as it swings open, he carries her inside, like a groom would do with his young bride. As they reach the bed, he stops for a moment to look at her, then places a sweet kiss on the top of her nose. 'I love you, Katniss Everdeen,' he whispers to her, snuggling her cheek with his own; then he lays her gently on her back, stooping over her.

He feels her fingers, gently caressing his back as he positions himself between her slightly spread thighs. His hand is back. She rolls her eyes in delight as he begins to rub her again, giving her all the pleasure he possibly can. And then it's suddenly gone. For a moment she feels a pang of disappointment, until she feels something else, warm and wet. O good god. Hoisting herself onto her elbows, she looks down; Peeta had exchanged his fingers with his tongue. She begins to writhe under him; she doesn't want him to continue, but she doesn't want him to stop either. What is he doing? Oh god.

As she lies back again and grabs her hair to hold in her scream, closing her eyes. She is going to die from pleasure for sure! 'Peeta,' she whimpers, before her whole body begins to tingle. She tries to curl up even more to him, than comes hard, screaming his name in delight as a thousand stars appear before her eyes.

She doesn't even notice when he enters her, still in her own little heaven, but when he begins to thrust into her in a steady rhythm, her numbed senses are starting to react once again; her arms find his shoulders, pulling him closer to her as she pulls her legs up to his hips, allowing him to go deeper. He still manages to remain gentle, but that's not what she wants any more. She wants him, all of him. 'Come on Peeta, harder,' she moans in encouragement, trying to speed him up a little bit.

He hisses and gives into her appeal. One arm slips around her hips, placing her into a position that allows him even further access. As she passionately matches every single trust, she feels him tensing. 'Peeta!' Biting down on his shoulder, another wave of pleasure hits her, consuming her with an intense heat. She claws at his back, letting her nails run over his tender flesh as she comes again, taking him over the edge with her.

Later, as they both lay panting on the bed, completely wasted by their lovemaking, she snuggles up to him, and rests her head contently on his sweaty chest, listing to the unsteady beat of his heart. 'Peeta?' she asks, playing absentmindedly with the short little blond hairs at his chest.

'Yes?' he asks, his eyes feeling heavier by the minute. She sighs. 'I've got another letter from Prim today.'

He looks up at her. 'Hopefully she has some good news to share?' When she doesn't respond, he shifts his weight onto his elbow, hoisting his upper body from the mattress. The bliss he had felt a moment ago turns into concern. 'Katniss? '

He tries to lock eyes with her, but she quickly lowers her lashes, avoiding it. 'She and Gale…they want to come over for the festivities,' she continues, her voice all gloomy again. Then she falls silent, biting nervously on the thumb nail. He raises a hand, lovingly stroking the long strands of her black hair away from her face. 'So that's what's bothering you.'

'Yes. I don't want them to. Don't get me wrong, I'm dying to see those two again. I would do anything if I could just hold my little sister for a minute. But what if they find out? After all, among themselves the capitol's citizens are not discrete.' She gasps, covering her mouth with a trembling hand. 'My god, what if they already suspect something? I don't want Prim to know her big sister is nothing but a common whore.'

'He! First of all you're not a whore,' he warns her, taking both her wrists in his hands to claim her attention. 'So don't you ever refer to yourself as one, okay!' She tenses right away, startled by the anger in his voice. He can see fear lingering in her eyes. Damn. He rest his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. 'If you fear what others will say about you in front of your sis and friend….well, than don't. Snow will not risk any bad publicity at the moment.'

'And why is that?'

He sighs and hesitates; should he confide in her or not? He doesn't want to give her any false hopes. He takes her hands, enfolding them with his own. 'Katniss, there is something important I have to tell you. But you have to promise me you'll never tell it to another living soul.'


End file.
